


Of Blackwoods and Belmonts

by TheHorae



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Friendship, Not Canon Compliant, Nudity, Romance, Trevor belmont is a jerk, Vampires, but he gets nice i promise, comedy if you squint, not until later, only slightly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-01-04 04:37:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21191684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHorae/pseuds/TheHorae
Summary: You are the last monster hunter of a powerful noble family. After being disowned for your monster-hunting ways, you make your own path in the world by carving up the worst creatures that hell has to offer. After three long years of hunting, you wonder if it's all worth it. Your questions are answered when you overhear of attacks being carried out by the king of the night himself- Vlad Dracula Tepes. With your family sword and a plucky attitude, you make your way to the city of Gresit. Carnage and strife is not all you find there, as you hear that a Belmont was seen looking for the legendary sleeping soldier. Your family has old ties with the Belmont clan, and you believe that this sole survivor of the legendary family can help you defeat Dracula once and for all. That is, until you meet him.





	1. Chapter 1

Business was booming. At least, that’s what one would normally say when their area of expertise was overflowing with profit. As a monster hunter, you didn’t view an overflow of “business” as booming. It was a bad thing, in fact. 

A surplus of monsters meant that the world was becoming worse and worse by every passing second. It meant that Hell was spewing out its best and brightest for you to eventually cut down. Not before they took a few lives, of course.

You had had enough. Or so you thought, until one of your fellow patrons at the inn you were staying at mentioned an attack on Gresit. The second you heard the news; your heart skipped a beat and your palms became sweaty. You needed to know more.

“What’s this about Gresit?” You had asked, plopping down unceremoniously at the man’s table, earning a both surprised and annoyed look.

“Night hordes tore the place up. I heard that Dracula was involved.” 

Dracula. Now there was a name you weren’t expecting to hear. The king of night himself seemed to have lowered himself from his lofty throne to smite those who wronged him. 

Interesting, you thought, and left the inn without another word.

The day was early, so you decided to make your way to Gresit as soon as possible. It wouldn’t look good on you to be late for the Night horde, after all. After haggling for a solid hour, you purchased a horse with the last of your “fly by the seat of my pants” money, and headed west to Gresit.

The trip would not be long, but it gave you enough time to ponder. Memories of your family came to mind as stealthily as a thief in the night, and you tried your best to shake them off. They had disowned you almost 3 years prior, but the sting of their rejection still sang in your ears. 

“Our daughter will not partake in such dangerous behaviour.” Your father had spat, his face red with rage. “Fighting the creatures of the night is no place for a woman!”

You belonged to a legendary noble family, one that had received fame from their many exploits in the monster-hunting business, but that reputation screeched to a halt with your father.

He was a tyrant and a bully, who preferred ordering servants around to fighting the powers of evil. Your mother was your only solace, but even she bent under your father’s oppressive hand.

You clutched the crucifix your mother had given to you the day you were exiled.

“If I can no longer protect you, the Lord will.” She had said as tears spilled from her eyes.

She was a devout woman, and you could remember all those Sundays when she would read you bible stories with a huge smile on her face. You missed those days. The bible in your coat pocket belonged to her, and on the days that missing her became too much, you would read her favourite stories. 

The sadness that built in your heart became all too evident, and you wiped a single tear from your eye. 

The journey went smoothly, up until you reached the border of Gresit. The smell was the first thing to hit you.

Rotting flesh, burning hair, and human refuse was all you could breathe as you rode the path to Gresit. Your stomach turned in disgust as you drew closer to the gates of the city, and you saw the source of the stench.

Rotting corpses, human and night creature alike, were scattered on the outside walls of the city. Humans lay in misshapen clumps, and just as many severed and mutilated body parts covered the cobblestone path to the city gates.

You held back a retch, and swallowed hard. You had seen horrific things in your line of work, but the sheer quantity of this abomination was almost too much. 

As you arrived at the gates, you noticed how distinctly deserted it looked. Looks like I have to find my own way in, you thought, dismounting your horse begrudgingly. 

You made your way along the wall, skirting by severed arms and heads with agility that could only be sourced from disgust. You soon eyed the entrance to a sewer, and you prayed for an alternative. You could practically hear God laughing at you.

The sewer tunnel seemed to beckon you with a mocking tone, and with a groan and a handkerchief up your nose, you climbed inside. 

You thanked God for your gloves as you gripped the slimy stone walls. Your footing was careful and light as you avoided the brown sludge that slopped by. You questioned why you were even doing it in the first place, and resolved that you were insane. You hoped that your chances of seeing Dracula would double after the literal shit you had gone through.

Dracula was always a point of interest for you, ever since you were a little girl, in fact. This was for good reason, as there was a well-known legend in your family that told of the master-vampire almost completely wiping out your family line in a fit of blood-lust. 

You were overcome with curiosity about him, but more than that, you wanted to be the one who ended his reign of terror forever. He was the reason your family had grown so soft under your father’s rule, and killing him could bring your family back into the light.

You secretly hoped in your heart of hearts that killing the master vampire would put you back in your family’s favour, but you understood that doing exactly what they told you not to could muddle things further. 

The sewer soon filled with a gust of fresh air, and you knew that the surface was close. With a deep breath and a final scramble, you popped out onto the cobblestone street. 

As you stood up and straightened yourself out, you realized that what you had seen on the outside of the walls was tame compared to what you were faced with now.

Human entrails, like party streamers, were stretched along wooden piles that stuck out of the turrets of the wall. Decapitated heads were stuck to the tips of the pikes, their mouths hanging open dumbly. You swallowed hard and said a silent prayer for the lives that were lost.

You gripped the hilt of your sword, and cautiously entered the city centre. 

The square of Gresit was heavy with sadness and grief, and the sight of newly orphaned and widowed people brought tears to your eyes. You blinked them away, and resolved yourself to ask the few merchants about the attacks.

You walked over to a stand that looked to be selling dried meats, and greeted the woman merchant as kindly as you could.

“I haven’t seen you before.” She stated, carving a goat haunch as she spoke.

“I’m just passing through. I was wondering if you knew anything of the attacks that have been happening.” You replied, eyeing a slice of meat hungrily. Your ride had been a little longer than anticipated, and you had forgotten to eat lunch.

“All I know is that Dracula is behind them.” The woman said, offering you the slice of meat.

“I thought as much. Any idea of a motive?” You asked, handing her a silver coin in exchange for the meat.

“Are you another one of those monster hunters?” She countered, pocketing the coin.

Another one? 

“There have been other hunters here?” You asked over a hunk of meat, swallowing it quickly.

She nodded affirmatively. “There was a man, came in a couple hours ago. I noticed a Belmont sigil on his shirt.” 

A Belmont? 

You were dumbfounded. The Belmont’s were closely tied to your family for generations, but you had assumed them extinct, and the members of your family that had known them had been slaughtered. If there was one left alive, he could help you defeat Dracula. You needed to find him.

“Do you remember where he went?” You asked, scarfing down the rest of the meat.

“Not really, but I think he may be searching for the soldier that sleeps under Gresit.” 

Well, that’s horribly vague.

“The sleeping soldier? That sounds familiar.” You said. You could recall a very faint memory of reading the legend in a book, but it was quite fuzzy.

“Aye. Legend tells of a saviour who sleeps under Gresit, only to wake to fight Dracula and the forces of night.” 

“Well, sounds like he may need a wake-up call.” You stated. 

You thanked the woman, slipping her a couple more silver pieces while she wasn’t looking, and began your search for the Belmont.

After speaking to a few more townspeople, you found out that there was not only a Belmont in Gresit, but a group of speakers as well. This comforted you immensely, as the nomadic speakers and your family had a long and friendly history. You remember the days when you were little and speakers would make camp on your families’ lands. They always had the best stories, and their magicians fascinated you. 

You also knew that the Belmont’s had a friendly relationship with the speakers as well, and such knowledge led you to decide to seek them out. They could have more information of the Belmont you seek.

You were told that they were making camp in an old abandoned house, located a couple blocks away from the city square. 

As you walked down the alleyways of Gresit, you were reminded of why you hated large cities. Despite the horrible attack the citizenry has suffered, the men still did not fail to leer. An unfamiliar woman was obviously not common, and their unwavering gazes made you clutch your sword out of instinct. You hoped that one day you would not be looked on like a piece of meat by your fellow human.

You soon arrived in a clearing- which was odd for a city a large as Gresit. A decrepit old house stood in the centre of the clearing, but torchlight that streamed through the windows let you know that there were people inside. 

As you approached the door, you heard faint murmuring within. You could only hear a little, but it sounded worried. Cautiously, you raised your gloved hand to knock.

The talking instantly halted at your knock, and the door slowly opened. An old man in the traditional blue robes of a speaker stood in the doorway, looking up at you with a kind curiosity.

“It seems we have another visitor.” He said, his accent thick. “Who might you be, stranger?”

“My name is [y/n] Blackwood. Happy to meet you.”

The old man’s eyes widened, and hushed gasps sounded within the house.

“Blackwood? Of house Blackwood?” He asked, a reverent tone in his voice.

“The very same.” You replied.

Wordlessly, he moved aside and ushered you in the house. 

The house was as decrepit on the inside as it was on the outside, the only difference being a couple old boxes and dusty fur rugs. A group of ten other speakers sat huddled in a circle, their curious eyes trained on you. You shuffled uncomfortably.

“This is [y/n] Blackwood. We are in the presence of another slayer of creatures of the night.” The old man stated, laying a hand on your shoulder.

You almost forgot how touchy speakers were, but three years of travelling on your own will do that.

The ten other speakers rose to greet you, each taking your hand and giving it a squeeze. You found that you had missed human contact.

“I thank you for your warm greetings.” You said, a small smile on your face. “I have a question to ask you.”

They eagerly watched you, awaiting your question.

“Your elder said that I was not the only hunter you’ve encountered, was the other a Belmont?” 

The speakers erupted in displeased grumbling, only to be quickly silenced by their elder.

“We did meet a Belmont. He offered to save our missing speaker.” He explained, speaking pointedly at the others, and not so much at you.

“One of your own is missing?” You asked.

“It’s his grandchild!” One of the younger speakers blurted, only to be suffocated by shushing from his fellows.

“Your grandchild?” You repeated, gripping the hilt of your sword. 

You did not know these speakers, and yet the urge to protect these bringers of knowledge filled your very being. You turned to the elder.

“I would help you. I’m searching for the Belmont, and this way I can aid you and find your grandchild.” 

The elder shook his head.

“I cannot take responsibility if any other lives are lost.” 

You stood your ground. If you could not help find their missing speaker, you would at least protect them.

“Then I will protect you until the Belmont returns.”

Agreeable mutterings rose from the other speakers, only for the elder to silence them.

“As I say, I cannot take responsibility if you are injured.”

You shrugged. “I’m a hunter, getting injured is a part of the job. You don’t need to take responsibility for me, just let me help you.” 

The elder seemed conflicted, and gave a heavy sigh.

“It is true that we need protection. Both the night hordes and the church are against us, and we can’t hope to defend ourselves alone. We accept your help, Blackwood.”

Relief washed over you as the speakers broke into happy grins. They would be safe with you until the Belmont returned.


	2. Chapter 2

As the afternoon turned to early evening, you listened to the stories that the speakers told. You loved how passionate and animatedly they spoke, and you sat enthralled like a small child.

“So, [y/n], you are the first Blackwood hunter in generations, why is that?” A young speaker with messy dark hair asked, curiosity twinkling in his eyes.

“Well,” you began, unsure of where to start. “My mother raised me to fight for what I love. And I love the human race. Fighting monsters is a method of protecting them that compliments me, I suppose.” 

The young speaker nodded, though the curiosity in his eyes did not fade.

“Your sword is of impressive make, but it is quite old. Has your family not gifted you a new one?” 

The seemingly innocent question cut to your core, and reminded you of the night you were exiled.

You had stolen the sword from your families’ armoury, and despite its age, it was significant to you. The only remaining sigil of the Blackwood family rested proudly on the pommel of the sword, and it was said that it had belonged to Isadora Blackwood, your great-great-great Aunt who is said to have bested a ravenous Chimera in single combat. It was all you had left to remind you of your families’ legacy.

“I am…not in touch with my family anymore.” You replied, your tone guarded as you traced the inscription on the guard of the sword. Ut superveniat tibi benedictio a Deo ego in pugna. 

“For the glory of God, I will fight on.” You repeated the motto in a whisper. 

“That is a shame, family is a rare blessing.” Another speaker perked up.

“But the family that you choose is stronger than any other.” The elder finished the proverb from his position at the head of the circle.

“Thank you, elder.” You said, giving him a nod.

A comfortable silence fell over the house, and you gazed at your sword for a long moment. You noticed the sun falling below the horizon, and decided it was time to head out.

“Night falls, I’ll stand watch outside the house.” You said, standing from the crate you were seated on.

“Do be careful, Blackwood. You will do your name honour with caution.” The elder stated, and you nodded affirmatively.

“Will do. Just stay quiet and do not go outside.” You left the house.

The night air was chilly, and you shivered as you pulled the collar of your overcoat up to your cheeks. You rested your hand on the grip of your sword, tightening and loosening your grip with each passing second.

It was not long until you heard the trademark howls of night creatures. The screams of the citizens of Gresit rose to the heavens, and you wished that you could help them. But it was enough that you were protecting the speakers. You prayed for the city and it’s people.

As you finished your prayer, you noticed a faint glow in the distance, and upon further inspection, it looked to belong to the crimson red eyes of an alpha night creature. It seemed to notice you as you unsheathed your sword. The beast let out an ear-piercing screech and began to charge you.

You resolved yourself to approach it, sword drawn and teeth bared. It lunged at you, it’s massive claws narrowly missing your throat as you ducked. You expertly sliced off the attacking arm, causing the beast to howl in pain. The smell of the creatures’ putrid blood filled your nostrils, but it only spurred you on. In a flash of metal, the beast lay in a puddle of its own blood, missing both an arm and a head.

“Back to the depths, demon.” You spat, kicking the monster’s corpse.

As you wiped the blood from your side, you heard more footsteps approach. With expert precision, you flicked your blade to meet the throat of the intruder. To your surprise, you met the wide eyes of a young girl in speaker garb. This must be the missing grandchild.

“Sorry! I did not mean to startle you!” She squealed, holding her hands up apologetically.

You were about to reply when you felt cold steel press into your throat. 

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” A gruff male voice asked, and you calmly sheathed your sword.

This had to be the Belmont.

“My name is [y/n] Blackwood, and I have sworn to protect the speakers that are taking refuge here.” 

The blade fell from your throat the second you spoke your name.

“Blackwood?” The man repeated, as he walked into your line of sight.

He was tall and broad, definitely bred to fight. His hair was dark and unkempt, as was the scruff that covered his jaw. He was young, no older than your twenty years, but the scar above his left eye suggested that he had enough fighting experience to last a lifetime. The Belmont symbol on his shirt nearly glowed under his heavy fur cloak.

You had found the Belmont.

“I thought your kind went soft and ran to the hills.” He said, a cocky tone in his deep voice.

“And I thought your kind was extinct, Belmont.” You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

You did not expect the last surviving Belmont to be so arrogant.

He minded the sigil, covering it with his cloak. He eyed you suspiciously as the young woman began to speak.

“You are protecting my people? They are safe?” She asked, bright blue eyes twinkling with hope.

You found yourself caring for this young woman almost instantly. She had the hopeful spirit of her people, and a part of you demanded to protect it.

“They are. I will take you to them.” You said, gesturing for them to follow you.

As you led them back, the Belmont sped up enough to walk at your side. It seemed that he had something on his mind.

“It seems unfair that I know your name and you don’t know mine.” He stated, and you could feel him looking down at you. “I’m Trevor.”

“Well met, Trevor.” You said shortly. 

His arrogance oozed off of him like honey from a bee hive, and you had no intention of stroking his already massively inflated ego. 

“My name is Sypha, pleasure to meet you, [y/n].” The speaker said, and you turned around to shake her hand. 

“It’s good to meet you, Sypha. Your people are quite worried about you.” You gave her a kind smile as you knocked on the house’s decrepit door.

“Blackwood? Is all well?” The voice of the elder asked from within, and Sypha’s face lit up like a torch dosed in oil.

“Papa!” She beamed, and the old door swung open, revealing the old man, arms outstretched for his granddaughter.

“Dear Sypha, thank the stars!” He smiled tearfully, as the other speakers got up to greet their long-lost member. 

You and Trevor managed to squeeze into the house, and you grinned to yourself at the little family reunion. 

“So, what’s a Blackwood doing in Gresit?” Trevor asked, still managing to sound disinterested in spite of the fact that he asked the question. 

“I could ask the same of you, Belmont.” You quipped, turning to face him.

He chuckled lowly, and in the light of the wall torches, you would have thought him handsome. How unfortunate that he thought the same. 

“I was just passing through, but I got roped into rescuing the prodigal speaker.” He stated, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall. 

“You weren’t here for any other business?” You asked, slightly confused.

You had assumed that the last living Belmont had come to Gresit in search of the storied sleeping soldier, or to at least learn more about Dracula’s attacks. 

“No. Why do you ask?” He replied, obviously curious.

“Well, I suppose I assumed you were here investigating the night horde attacks.” You shrugged.

He shook his head. “I came here with a hangover and an empty stomach; the night horde wasn’t necessarily a priority.” 

Having met Trevor, this didn’t exactly shock you, but you couldn’t say that you weren’t slightly upset with his aloofness.

“So, you’re telling me,” you start, glaring at him in a way that startled him, “that you don’t care about all that lives that have been lost? The lives that will be lost if Dracula isn’t dealt with?” 

Your heated tone looked to surprise him, but he quickly regained composure.

“Don’t start with me, it’s not my job to clean up every mess after some immortal bastard throws a tantrum!” His voice was a low growl, and you knew you shouldn’t push him anymore.

But when did that ever stop you?

“You claim that my family has gone soft, while you sit here, hungover as shit, and refuse the destiny that was laid out for you!” The speakers were looking at you two now, but that didn’t stop Trevor from getting in a last word.

“If you’re so pious, why don’t you do it yourself? Oh, that’s right, your family is comprised exclusively of cowards and fat old men.”

You clenched your teeth so hard that it hurt. You went for your sword, but you were quickly stopped by a gentle hand on your wrist. 

“Stop it! Both of you!” Sypha yelled, her light brows furrowed deeply. “There’s no reason to fight like this!”

You slowly sheathed your weapon, feeling slightly embarrassed at your outburst. Trevor continued to stare daggers at you, only sheathing his sword when yours was in to the hilt. 

“You’re right. My apologies.” You bowed your head apologetically. 

Trevor nodded curtly to the elder, his brows furrowed and jaw rigid.

“As much as I dislike conflict, I agree with [y/n]. We need to put a stop to these attacks.” Sypha stated, and a string of silent protests rang out from the speakers. 

Trevor shot her a deadly look, and you felt as if you may erupt in a laughing fit. 

“Sypha, we just got you back, truly you must not mean to stay here?” The elder asked, his aged voice quivering with worry.

“Elder, if I may.” You piped in, “You said it yourself that the danger from both the night horde and the church is too much for your people. It would be the most intelligent course of action for you to leave Gresit, and for us to search for this ‘sleeping soldier’.” 

“It’s true! The legend may hold some truth.” Sypha added.

“Or, it may hold a crock of shit. There’s not a messiah sleeping under Gresit.” Trevor huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

You felt like you could deck him right there.

“Sypha, is this truly what you desire?” The elder asked, sadness choked in his voice.

“Yes, papa. I believe that I must help these heroes fight this evil.” Her voice was filled with unwavering confidence, and you couldn’t help but be inspired. 

“If it is your will, granddaughter, then let it be so.” The elder nodded, an unmistakable sadness in his eyes.

“Well, if you’re going to leave, you should leave by dawn. At least that way you won’t get torn to shreds by night creatures.” Trevor huffed nonchalantly. 

You hated the fact that you agreed with him, but it truly was the best course of action for the speakers. 

“Belmont and I will escort you out of the city, and I’ll see if I can arrange for a covered wagon and horses for your journey.” You said.

The elder walked up to you with outstretched hands, and he grabbed your hands in his. 

“You have been a blessing to us in these hard times. You do your lineage proud.” He said, and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile at the sentiment. 

“Thank you, Elder.” You replied, giving his hands a gentle squeeze.

“And Belmont,” He turned toward Trevor. “Thank you for returning my granddaughter to us.”   
Trevor nodded in acknowledgement.

“Speakers, we have a long journey ahead of us, we must prepare ourselves.” The Elder said to his fellow speakers.

Murmurings of agreement rose from the other speakers, and they each began to collect what meager belongings they owned. The next day, they would leave Gresit, and hopefully the strife of the night horde, behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading this chapter! I hope you guys are liking this so far :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The speakers prepare to leave Gresit, and you and Trevor begin to not totally hate each other.

After the speakers turned in for the night, you decided to return to your post outside and keep watch. The night was still young, after all.

You plopped down on a large crate that sat just outside the single window, and stared out into the foggy darkness. The speakers would leave tomorrow, you thought, hoping for a safe journey. The fact that the speakers would be leaving without their only magician worried you a bit, but they were a resourceful people. The only real threat they would face would be if the night horde advanced out of Gresit, and you were not about to let that happen. You would slaughter any night creature that got in your path, and now, you had help. Sypha had the glint of a strategic fighter in her eyes, and you found yourself excited to see her use her magic. You also had the Belmont. Trevor.

You huffed out a sigh at the thought of that stubborn brute. You had no idea how you would even begin to deal with him without cutting his head off. 

The problem with him wasn’t the fact that he was an arrogant ass, it was the fact that he was a Belmont. It enraged you that such a legendary family could bring a man like him into the world, and you wondered how why he even agreed to help rescue Sypha. To commit such a helpful act such as that seemed radically out of character for him, unless…

Could there be more to him? You wondered, playing with the pommel of your sword. Sure, he was a complete jackass, but there must be more than a jackass in him. Perhaps he’s hiding a kind heart under that massive fur cloak. You decided you wanted to find out. 

The night soon faded into dawn, and you were surprised at the fact that you saw almost no night creatures. Perhaps Sypha casted a protection ward over the house. 

You yawned as the sun peaked over the dark clouds, and tucked a stray stand of hair behind your ear. Breakfast came to mind. You were about to get up from your crate when you felt a presence approach you. By the heavy footsteps and faint smell of alcohol, you guessed it was Trevor.

“Morning.” Trevor huffed, leaning on the wall beside you.

“Morning.” You replied curtly. You realized that you were still sore from your spat last night as the remnant of anger bubbled up in your throat. 

“I went to the market.” He stated, and you were surprised to hear a tinge of nervousness in his voice. 

“Interesting.” You said, staring off into the horizon. 

“I got some dried goat meat from one of the stalls.” He shuffled, grabbing the meat from one of his cloak pockets. “I got you some too, I figured you’d be hungry.”  
You almost gaped at him as he handed you the larger piece of meat. How uncharacteristically kind of him.

“Thanks, Trevor.” You said, taking a bite.

He nodded, tearing off a bit of his own piece. You sat in silence for a moment, but the heavy atmosphere told you that he had more to say. 

“I wanted to apologize.” 

You nearly whipped your head around to face him. “For?”

He furrowed his brows, obviously carefully choosing his words. “For what I said to you last night. About your family.” 

You nodded. “Oh, well, thanks.” 

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m not done.” 

“Well get on with it.” You said, half-jokingly.

“It was wrong of me to put you in the same position as your ancestors, people do that to me all the time and I get chased out of villages for it. It’s not a good feeling.” 

You chuckled silently. “It’s definitely not.” 

He nodded, and you thought that you saw the ghost of a smile cross his face. 

“I just want you to know that I’m sorry, and that I want us to not hate each other.” He finished, looking down at you. 

The genuine tone in his voice touched you, and you knew he really meant what he said. 

“I don’t hate you, Belmont. In fact, I kind of need you.” You state, shrugging. 

“Hmm, elaborate, please.” He replied, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, how am I going to kill an ancient vampire without the help of a fellow monster hunter? I can’t do this shit alone, Belmont.” You explain simply. 

“Fair enough.” He chuckled. 

You grinned, glad to have cleared the air. You both made your way into the house.

“Good morning you two!” Sypha beamed, greeting you at the door.

“Hello, Sypha. How fares the preparation for your people’s journey?” You asked. 

“Quite well, they should be ready to go very soon.” She replied, and you knew she was right.

The speakers had gathered all their meager belongings and looked to be fully prepared for their trip. They stood around and shared idle chat. 

“I’ll go inquire about a cart and some horses.” You declared.

“I’ll join you.” Trevor stated, taking you off guard.

“I’m quite capable of going by myself, Trevor.” 

“Do you even know where to go to buy a cart?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You had prepared a cheeky response, but you suddenly remembered that you had no idea where anything was, save for the dried goat meat stand. 

“Fine.” You concede. “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for reading this chapter! It took me a little longer because things are pretty turbulent at school, but I'll hopefully be able to update this more regularly soon :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor and Y/N try and find transport for the speakers.

The trip into the market was silent as you and Trevor walked side-by-side. The chill of the morning air still hung heavy in the breeze, and you pulled your jacket collar up to your cheeks. Trevor seemed unaffected by the cold, which was no doubt because of the massive fur cloak draped over his shoulders. Once you strayed far enough from the clearing, you relied on his sense of direction to get you to the square. 

“I have a question.” You broke the silence, admiring the sturdy architecture that lined Gresit’s streets. 

Trevor tipped his head in your direction, his icy blue eyes still focused on the walkway ahead.

“Why did you save Sypha? You don’t seem like the type to face potential death for the life of a stranger.” 

He noticeably bristled at the question, but his posture relaxed after a moment.

“Did you forget what both of our families are famous for? Hunting could easily be defined as facing potential death for much more than just one stranger.” 

He made a good point, you had to admit. But your curiosity wasn’t sated yet.

“True enough. But still, I don’t get it.” You shrugged.

“Do I really strike you as that much of a jackass that I wouldn’t try to save a missing person?” His tone wasn’t angry, it was more curious, which surprised you. 

“Well…” You hesitated. “Yeah.” 

“Hmph.” He huffed, a thoughtful look on his face. 

“I realize how mean that question was, don’t think on it too hard.” You tried, feeling slightly remorseful. 

“No, it’s a valid question. I never thought about it that way,” He admitted, furrowing his dark brows. “I suppose I felt guilty. I guess?”

“Guilty? Any idea what for?” You asked, your mind filling with questions. 

Was his secretly soft heart being revealed?

“Obviously not, or else I wouldn’t need an extremely persistent woman stoning me with questions.” 

Guess not.

“Well, excuse me. I was just trying to make conversation.” You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. 

You really thought you were getting somewhere. 

“So you decided to pry your way into my head, and not talk about something much more preferable, like the weather?” He growled. You could practically hear him roll his eyes.

“Let’s just find a damn wagon, Belmont.” You said with a huff, charging up ahead of him.

“You’re going the wrong way, Blackwood.” He replied, gesturing in the opposite direction to where you were going.

After getting lost more than a couple of times, you and Trevor managed to locate a wagon merchant and a horse, and after a little over an hour of haggling, you returned to the speakers. 

“I can’t believe you let them charge you so much for this bag of fleas.” Trevor groaned, leading a rather distinguished looking horse by a rope.

“Did you see the condition of his stall? I would have paid twice that amount to get him out of that dump.” You retorted from the driver’s seat of the wagon, and reached down to pat the old horse’s hind-quarters. 

“It’s a horse, not a lap dog,” Trevor muttered, wincing at the beast’s rancid breath. “And it stinks like a fat nobleman’s chamber pot.” 

“You’re in no position to judge anyone’s smell, Mr. I use whiskey as cologne.” You taunted, and he fixed you with a pointed stare. 

“[y/n], Belmont!” Sypha’s voice rose through the air, and you fixed your eyes onto the horizon, where you saw her and her fellow speakers standing outside of the old house. 

“It seems your trip was successful.” The elder smiled, as you and Trevor arrived at the house. 

“If by ‘successful’ you mean getting lost multiple times and paying a small fortune for a half-dead horse.” Trevor snapped, and you shot him a dirty look as you dismounted the wagon.

“The horse is stronger than he looks, and this wagon will serve you well.” You added, elbowing Trevor as you walked past him.

“Thank you both. This act means very much to me and my people.” Sypha smiled, taking your hands in hers and giving them a gentle squeeze. 

You returned the smile. “We’re happy to help.” 

“We must depart soon if we wish to find a traveller’s inn by dusk.” The elder stated, as the other speakers began to pile into the wagon. 

An unmistakable look of sadness crossed Sypha’s face, and you gave her hands a comforting squeeze. 

You lead the small band to the massive gates of Gresit, which were still decked with the viscera of the previous night’s violence. You sighed as you were served another reminder of how dark the world had become. Your heart felt heavy at the sight. You and Trevor stood together silently as Sypha said goodbye to her family. You couldn’t help by be moved at the emotional goodbye, and you hastily wiped a tear from your eye. Trevor gave you what you assumed he meant as a compassionate look, and you could have sworn he gave your shoulder a small squeeze. 

The speakers soon waved goodbye and left Gresit behind them, and Sypha returned to you and Trevor.   
You could tell that she was barely holding herself together, and you gave her shoulder a reassuring rub. Obviously, the weight of your action was lost on you, and you were shocked when Sypha practically fell into your arms, sobbing quietly. You froze for a moment, unused to the physical contact, but after a moment you relaxed and hugged her back. You remembered that she was a young girl, perhaps no older than 18, and that she had never really been alone before. You understood that feeling deeply, and holding back your own tears soon became a struggle. 

You stood like that for a while, holding her until she was ready to move on. Trevor stood close beside you, hesitantly draping his arm over your shoulders once you let a couple tears fall. It was a unifying moment, and the most human contact you had received in years. Part of you didn’t want to end, but you knew it had to. Eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you all so much for such great feedback and support! It means so much to me that so many of you enjoy this. It's exam season for me right now, but I'll try to keep updating as regularly as I can. Thanks so much for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading this! I'm planning on making this a multi-chapter run, so please stay tuned!


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